


Relationship Status: It's Complicated

by rokkasen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Handwave-y Magic, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, shoddy worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rokkasen/pseuds/rokkasen
Summary: The Hero of Ferelden, Champion of Kirkwall, and Inquisitor are 30-something year old roommates just trying to navigate work, dating, life, and most importantly, whose Netflix account to steal. [collection of loosely interconnected modern Thedas!AU fics]





	1. Summer in the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of it all (alternatively titled, "Solona Eternally Suffers")

Work at the university had been brutal and Solona Amell wanted nothing more than to go home, rip her bra off, and sit in a bubble bath for a few hours while reading a nonsensical smutty romance novel and drinking an entire bottle of wine. 

She loved academia, she really did, and the study of magic and the arcane was an important one, but if she had to listen to one more old, crusty mage-cum-lecturer with too many degrees and not enough brain cells tell her that her research on the Blight was archaic and irrelevant _one more damn time she was going to flip a table and --_

Her thoughts of slaughter and revenge halted as soon as she managed to open the old, rickety, door to her apartment. It was a far cry from the lavish estate she had been raised in, but it was her oasis in the chaos of Kirkwall, a small bit of independence that she was proud of, despite the leaks and the chipped paint, and the noisy neighbors who had ceiling-thumping-sex at very inconvenient hours. 

As soon as Solona opened the apartment door, she was greeted to the sight of her roommates on their worn, secondhand couch. Hawke was wearing nothing but a sports bra and ratty gym shorts and Ellana was naked from neck to waist, wearing only a thin pair of underwear. There was a quart of melting ice cream between them and a cooking show blasting from the TV. Solona could only deduce from the sweltering, unrelenting heat of the apartment and the tear tracks down Ellana’s cheeks that a) the air conditioner was still broken and b) her elven roommate was still reeling from her recent break up.

Solona sighed deeply. Her bath and the next chapter of _Swords and Shields_ would just have to wait.

“Hawke,” Solona addressed her cousin, who was busy spoon feeding Ellana ice cream while simultaneously dabbing her cheeks with a tissue. “Didn’t you say you had a friend who could come and fix the AC?”

“Hello to you, too. And actually, it’s Ellana’s friend Dagna who said she’d come over to fix it, but she’s been holed up at work. She’ll be here soon, don’t worry so much, Sol. It’s not good for you. Remember your blood pressure,” Hawke said easily, in her Hawke-ish, charming way that almost made Solona forget that she was annoyed.

Almost.

Solona stripped off her outer shirt, clad in a sensible cotton bra that had seen better days. If she couldn’t beat them…

She plopped down next to Ellana. “Are you alright?”

Ellana wiped at her cheeks. “Oh, fine. I’m fine. I’m tired of dwelling on my bad luck with men. Let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about Hawke.”

“Always a fascinating topic of conversation,” Hawke agreed and Solona rolled her eyes. 

Ellana wiggled her eyebrows, instantly cheered up. “Fenris, you know, the handsome elf from the building that Hawke is crazy about, passed by the apartment on the way to the basement to do his laundry and I swear, I’ve never seen Hawke run so fast!”

“I _never_ run after a man.” Hawke plucked the spoon from Ellana’s hand, dug it into the soupy ice cream, and slurped it indecently. “But for tattoos and muscles, a girl might just power walk.”

Solona threw a couch pillow smattered with cigarette burn holes at Hawke’s head, laughing despite herself. “You’re incorrigible.”

“But you love that about me,” Hawke said with a shit-eating-grin. 

She did, but there was no way she was going to admit that out loud. Hawke was loud, ridiculous, and unpredictable, but her heart was in the right place. Still, Solona would have preferred it if Hawke could settle down, just a little, instead of burning the candle at both ends all the time, but that just wasn’t Hawke’s style. Hawke with her five part time jobs (some of them not quite legal, Solona deduced, but somehow she never got arrested -- Solona suspected that Hawke’s very connected dwarf friend, Varric, had something to do with that but the rumor was unconfirmed) and endless energy and need to help people. 

Solona loved her cousin but her poor life choices with partners and work and living in general really left a lot to be desired.

Ellana Lavellen, the third part of their trio, was sweet but young, and only slightly more put together than Hawke. She was a graduate student that had ventured far, far away from her clan to come to Kirkwall to study and write her dissertation on elven history and relics.

“I think I’m going to title it: _‘How the Shem Steal Dalish History, Give It a Mediocre Andrastian Twist, and Slap Their Name on It’_ ,” Ellana told her the first time they crossed paths in the library. “I was going to call it, _‘The Study of Shem Perverting Dalish Culture for Political Gain’,_ but apparently that was ‘too controversial’. Can you imagine?”

Solona liked her immediately and the rest, as they say, was history.

“You know, you can’t be sad forever over one guy ghosting you,” Hawke said to Ellana. 

Ellana sniffed, affronted. “We were together for a year and then he just ups and leaves. To do ‘field research’. Except he just disappeared off the face of the planet. That’s more than just ‘ghosting’. That’s-- that’s-- a full blown haunting!”

Solona had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Apparently Hawke’s penchant for the dramatic was contagious.

“Maybe he did you a favor,” Hawke suggested. “Your friend Dorian said he dressed like a hobo, anyway.”

Ellana took another couch pillow and shoved it in Hawke’s face. “He did not! It-- it’s a style choice!”

“A bad one!”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk!”

“Stop defending him, he ditched you!”

Solona shoved herself between the two arguing roommates, hands on both of their faces to pry them apart. “Alright, you two. Break it up.”

“Yes, Mother,” Hawke said snottily, acting every bit like the rebellious teenager she once was. “All I’m saying, Ellana, is that there are plenty of fish in the sea. You’re cute with perfect tits--” Solona snorted, “-- shut up, Sol, so let me hook you up with someone.”

Ellana’s frown softened. “... who?”

“Anyone you want. Just name them.”

“... Varric?”

“... anyone but him,” Hawke amended. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

Solona desperately wanted to ask if it was because, as she had long suspected, Varric was secretly Hawke’s Sugar Daddy and that was how she could afford to live life on part-time salary, but that was more than Solona ever really wanted to know about her cousin and her proclivities.

Hawke waved off Solona’s openly suspicious look. “All I’m saying is that many have tried and failed miserably. The dwarf is immovable. A fortress against venereal temptation. Ellana needs someone… easier. What about Merrill?”

“Why?” Ellana asked. “Because we’re both elves?”

“No,” Hawke corrected. “Because you’re nice and she’s nice and you can be nice together. How about it?”

“Isn’t your brother dating Merrill?” Solona asked.

“No, Carver has his thumbs up his ass and is wasting time pining away from afar. Besides, I’m not suggesting they get married,” Hawke said. “Maybe they just go on a casual date. Make out. Have sex and then report back in graphic detail.” Solona slapped Hawke on the arm. “Fine, fine. Maybe just the first two, then. Spoilsport.”

Ellana chewed on her bottom lip. “Well… it couldn’t hurt. It might be nice to go out.”

“Great! I’ll text her. You won’t regret it, Merrill is the best.”

Anytime Hawke said, You won’t regret it, the person almost immediately began to regret it, but Solona didn’t want to rain on Ellana’s parade.

“It’s disgusting in here,” Solona announced. “I can’t sit here another moment longer.”

“Dorian’s apartment complex has a pool,” Ellana suggested. “It’s not open now, but we could climb the gate and sneak in. The security guards are usually napping at this time or watching soap operas.”

“Before Captain Killjoy nixes the idea, I’m making an executive decision and we’re going,” Hawke said quickly before Solona, could in fact, nix the idea. “It’s either that or die of heatstroke. I vote pool.”

Solona unstuck herself from the couch. “Fine, but we better not get arrested. I’m lecturing tomorrow.”

“What could go wrong?” Hawke wondered aloud.

“With you?” Solona asked. “Only _everything._ ”


	2. call me, beep me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke makes poor life decisions (and a new friend). [f!Hawke/Fenris, f!Hawke/Anders]

As Varric was so fond of saying, 2:00 am was prime time for bad decision making. 2:00 am made you tired enough to come up with an outrageously stupid plan, but awake enough to follow through with it.

And Hawke was nothing if not a pro at outrageously stupid plans.

She rolled onto her stomach, stuck her hand under her pillow, and grabbed her cellphone. Warning bells were going off internally, screaming at her that maybe she should reconsider booty-calling her ex, but in true Hawke fashion, she told the warning bells to piss off. 

[2:01 am] _wyd? come over ;)_

No reply. Not even those three little dots that would let her know that he was replying. 

What the hell? Hawke knew that Anders was awake, probably working on his “manifesto” (aka, his dissertation). Maybe he was trying to play it cool. Maybe he was trying to feel her out. Maybe he was trying to make her sweat.

_Alright, Anders. Two can play at this game._

[2:09 am] _i’m not wearing anything except the necklace you gave me and a smile_  
[2:10 am] _;) ;) ;)_

There. The direct method.

Another pause.

Hawke grunted in displeasure. “Oh, what the hell, Anders --”

Suddenly, it hit her. The reason why she was getting no response.

_She had accidentally texted Fenris instead of Anders._

“Shit,” Hawke moaned. “Shit, shit shit.”

And worse?

There were the three little dots telling her that yes, someone-- Fenris, the unfriendly, but very attractive elf who she had desperately tried to befriend, who also happened to live in her building, _fucking shit_ \-- was texting her back.

Hawke glared at the little dots, feeling them judging her.

[2:11 am] **You should probably at least put on some pants; it’s getting cold outside.**

Hawke screamed into her pillow.

[2:12 am] **Also, really, Hawke? Three winky face emojis in a row? That just reeks of desperation.**

She barked out a laugh; he had her there.

[2:13 am] _only the Maker can judge me fenris ;) ;) ;)_

[2:12 am] **I am going out on a limb here, but I doubt the Maker would approve of your texts.**  
[2:12 am] **Or your lack of punctuation.**

[2:15 am] _everyone's a critic_  
[2:15 am] _u know u could come over……. I have snacks_  
[2:15 am] _i will even put on pants_  
[2:16 am] _(maybe)_

Hawke could practically hear his snort four floors down.

[2:18 am] **It’s the middle of the night, Hawke. What would we even do this late?**

[2:18 am] _i can think of like 5 things off the top of my head_

[2:20 am] **No.**

[2:21 am] _at least 1 of them involves a very nice bottle of Vint-9 Rowan's Rose_

There were those three dots again. Would he take the bait?

[2:25 am] **You better be wearing pants when I get there.**

Hawke grinned to herself and rolled out of bed to slide on a pair of jeans. Maybe this night wasn’t a complete loss after all.


End file.
